All Poems
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With The Quandongs
© Roderic Quinn
IF you happen to visit the Western Plains
When the summer is young and green,
You can see the green of the quandong leaves
With the quandong fruit between.
Time And Sentiment
© George Meredith
I see a fair young couple in a wood,
And as they go, one bends to take a flower,
The Shepheardes Calender: July
© Edmund Spenser
Morrell.
Ah good Algrin, his hap was ill,
But shall be bett in time.
Now farwell shepheard, sith thys hyll
thou hast such doubt to climbe.
Summer Woodlands
© Theocritus
He courteous bade us on soft beds recline,
Of lentesch and young branches of the vine;
Poplars and elms above their foliage spread,
Lent a cool shade, and waved the breezy head.
The House Of Dust: Part 01: 06:
© Conrad Aiken
The fisherman draws his streaming net from the sea
And sails toward the far-off city, that seems
Like one vague tower.
The dark bow plunges to foam on blue-black waves,
And shrill rain seethes like a ghostly music about him
In a quiet shower.
Cowslips
© Walter Savage Landor
WITH rosy hand a little girl pressd down
A boss of fresh-culld cowslips in a rill:
Often as they sprang up again, a frown
Showd she dislikd resistance to her will:
Crotalus [Rattlesnake Bar, Sierras]
© Francis Bret Harte
No life in earth, or air, or sky;
The sunbeams, broken silently,
On the bared rocks around me lie,-
Let go of your worries
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Let go of your worries
and be completely clear-hearted,
A Legend Of Christ's Nativity
© Duncan Campbell Scott
At Bethlehem upon the hill,
The day was done, the night was nigh,
The dusk was deep and had its will,
The stars were very small and still,
Like unblown tapers, faint and high.
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 18
© William Langland
Wolleward and weetshoed wente I forth after
As a recchelees renk that [reccheth of no wo],
Charity
© William Cowper
Fairest and foremost of the train that wait
On man's most dignified and happiest state,
Sketch Of A Political Character
© William Watson
Would that some call he could not choose but heed--
Of private passion or of public need--
At last might sting to life that slothful power,
And snare him into greatness for an hour!
My Fore-Elders
© William Barnes
When from the child, that still is led
By hand, a father's hand is gone, ---
Big Steamers
© Rudyard Kipling
"Oh, where are you going to, all you Big Steamers,
With England's own coal, up and down the salt seas?"
"We are going to fetch you your bread and your butter,
Your beef, pork, and mutton, eggs, apples, and cheese."
To Archilochus
© Theocritus
Pause, and scan well Archilochus, the bard of elder days,
By east and west
Alike's confest
The mighty lyrist's praise.
Winter Song
© George MacDonald
They were parted then at last?
Was it duty, or force, or fate?
Or did a worldly blast
Blow-to the meeting-gate?
The Temptation Of St. Anthony
© Rainer Maria Rilke
It didn't help for him to drive the quills
Of porcupines into his lecher's flesh
His pandemonian senses uttered shrill
Expulsive cries and issued him a fresh
A Sunset
© Victor Marie Hugo
I love the evenings, passionless and fair, I love the evens,
Whether old manor-fronts their ray with golden fulgence leavens,
Summer Night
© Alfred Tennyson
NOW sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
